You take a decision to act and it's only afterwards that you can really try to sort out why you did what you did. It's the same with memories, everything usually happens too quickly for you to remember it all. It's only in recollection that you can glue the pieces back together, that you add in context and explanations.
And it's for this reason that I think regrets are pointless. You can't help but act in the way that you do; it's part of who you are. If you really wanted to do it differently, you should have thought about it beforehand.
So I can't really say why I didn't throw the bomb. I was aware that a policeman was standing behind me, I could see the brim of his cap reflected in the window of the lead car as it drove past. Perhaps my nerve did fail or perhaps I thought that he would have stopped me from throwing the bomb. After all I knew that six others were stationed along the route. It's hard for me to say.
In the event, it was so farcical, I think it was fate. There were greater forces at work that day and I don't think I was ever destined to succeed. Čabrinović missed with his bomb and, Princip ... for heaven's sake. He was eating a sandwich in Schiller's when the Archduke's car pulled up outside and stalled. It must have been fate. Yes, it was fate.
Here, they come. Here, they come. Oh God. Oh Lord. Don't fail me now. Unification or Death! Unification or Death! For Serbia! Oh God!
Here they come, here they come. Not the first car, that's the Mayor. Oh God! There's a policeman behind. There's a fucking policeman standing behind me. Come on. Now. Do it. Do it!
I can't. Oh God. I can't and now, it's too late. Čabrinović you bastard, you'd better hit. Princip couldn't hit a barn door at three paces so you'd better hit.
He did it. Oh God! He fucking did it! I can't see. I can't see. Are they dead?
At least the policeman has gone. Time to leave.